<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>How The Light Gets In by Auguris</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23395648">How The Light Gets In</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auguris/pseuds/Auguris'>Auguris</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ken Doll Android Anatomy | Androids Have No Genitalia (Detroit: Become Human), Multi, Naked Cuddling, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:29:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23395648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auguris/pseuds/Auguris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Our trio enjoys a quiet night soaking in a hot tub. Mostly fluff, the mildest of angst.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connor/Markus/North (Detroit: Become Human)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How The Light Gets In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><a href="https://dbhrarepairs.tumblr.com/post/190688830077/welcome-to-our-third-detroit-become-human">For Rare Pairs Week 3</a> Day 1: Flowers</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor placed the last e-candle on the far corner of the hot tub, turning the holoflame up to effectively illuminate the area. He dipped his fingers into the water: 98 degrees Fahrenheit. His reflection rippled, blue silk flowers bobbing in his miniature wake. Hydrangeas, said the package; a brief internet search told him the resemblance was close enough.</p><p>He leaned back as the apartment door opened and shut; shorter strides. North. He stood, fiddling with his shirt cuffs. She probably wouldn't mind if the silk flowers were only a 94.7 percent match for the real deal. If she noticed at all. He rolled and unrolled his shirtsleeves while she puttered around the main room, eventually making her way down the hall.</p><p>"Here you are," she said, pushing the door open. "What's with the candles? It's hard to see."</p><p>Oh. "I was -- mood lighting -- nevermind." Connor went to flip the light switch.</p><p>"No, I didn't--" North grabbed his hand. "I didn't -- it's fine." Her brow furrowed. "I mean it's nice." She curled her fingers around his. "It looks nice."</p><p>"Okay," Connor said, focussing on their hands. He considered requesting an interface but he... felt awkward, and that wasn't what he wanted to share. "I thought... we haven't had a chance to use it yet..."</p><p>"It's <em>nice</em>," North repeated, squeezing his fingers. "Really." She let go of him to lean over the tub, poking a flower. "These are pretty."</p><p>"Yes," Connor said. At least she didn't notice the mismatch. Or mention it. "Do you want to--"</p><p>"When's Markus coming home?" North said at the same time, snapping her mouth shut at the end of the sentence.</p><p>Connor glanced at his hands. "In twenty-two minutes and fifty-eight seconds with current traffic." If you could call it <em>traffic.</em> Detroit's human population hadn't quite recovered their previous numbers.</p><p>North's hands came into view, covering his own. He turned his to clasp her wrists. "Did I mess this up?" she asked, barely more than a whisper.</p><p>"Not at all," Connor said. "I'm the one making it awkward."</p><p>"I'm making it more awkward," North countered.</p><p>"I'm making it the <em>most</em> awkward," Connor returned, mouth quirking.</p><p>"Yikes," North said, but she was smiling. "Do you always have to one-up me?"</p><p>"You started it."</p><p>"You really just said that. Wow, Arkay." She reached forward and he tensed, half expecting a wrestling match -- instead she undid his top button. "Cyberlife's brattiest prototype."</p><p>He rested his hands on her hips while she unbuttoned his shirt, releasing her when she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, slid it down his arms. She stepped back to peel off her sweater while he folded his shirt. She sat on the edge of the tub to remove her jeans, pausing to meet his eyes. "I told you I -- replaced it. So. It's just flat. Like everyone else's."</p><p>Connor nodded, but she seemed to expect more. "That's... good. Water won't. Get inside."</p><p>She stared at him for a long, <em>long</em> moment before bursting into laughter. "How did you -- how do you negotiate <em>anything</em>?"</p><p>He ducked his head, trying to hide a grin. "The other party typically isn't getting undressed. What are we meant to be negotiating?"</p><p>"How long it's going to take you to get out of your pants and into the water," North shot back.</p><p>He did just that, sliding into the tub next to her. She leaned into him, her arm going around his waist. She lifted her free hand out of the water, watching droplets slip off her fingers and crash into the tub. "I like it," she decided. "It's warm."</p><p>Her hair shimmered blue and the braid reset to loose hair, floating in the water around her. Connor ran his hand through it, watching auburn strands twist around his fingers. She hummed and pressed her lips against his, twisting around until she was in his lap. Her mouth moved to his cheek, his neck, her thumb rubbing a lazy circle over his port.</p><p>Connor let his eyes flicker shut and sank deeper into the water, his arms loose around her middle. Time seemed to stretch around them -- he didn't lose track entirely, couldn't afford to; but he didn't tally the seconds, the minutes they floated together, her fingers laced with his.</p><p>The front door opened and closed. Markus's half-step gait threaded through their apartment, pausing to hang up coat and scarf -- an entirely unnecessary accessory that Connor argued against regularly -- to remove boots, to search the first half of their living area before North took pity on him and called out.</p><p>Markus didn't say anything at first; Connor tilted his head back to get an upside-down look at Markus. "I see we're trying out the hot tub." Eyebrows lowered, mouth tilted up. He rolled back his shirtsleeves and knelt behind Connor and North, reaching past them to poke at a flower. "Whose idea?"</p><p>"Connor's," North answered, reaching out to tug at Markus's arm. "Get in already."</p><p>Another breath of time Connor refused to consciously score; Markus slipped into the water aside Connor, adjusting until he had his arms tangled in both of theirs, requesting a joint interface. Connor steadied himself a moment before accepting, before allowing the free flow of information between the three of them. He tucked aside meetings and reports for later analysis -- flagging one particularly alarming security warning from North's workday -- and brought them into his day off. His lazy morning, meeting Hank in the park, walking Sumo. Stopping by the craft store. The patch of sunflowers in Alice's balcony garden. Anticipating North and Markus's arrival--</p><p>Markus snorted with laughter. "North," he chastised, amusement filtering through their connection. "Connor went to all this trouble and all you can think to say is--"</p><p>"Shut up! I didn't -- shut up." North flicked water at Markus. "I wasn't expecting flowers and candlelight, okay?"</p><p>Something trembled at the edge of Markus's consciousness, where the interface brought them together -- a vague feeling that Connor interpreted as '<em>you</em> should know better', snuffed out not quite quickly enough to miss, followed by an apology, then from North a sense of forgiveness.</p><p>Connor hadn't quite mastered this -- communicating through <em>emotions</em>, via data he still couldn't quite quantify. Foreign patience washed over him -- patience with his inability to keep up? No, came the response, patience with <em>himself</em>.</p><p>He closed his eyes, held back a sense of -- unease, maybe. He shouldn't <em>have</em> to be patient with himself. He <em>should</em> be able to keep up -- North abruptly ended the interface from her end, leaving him bereft, clinging to Markus, an apology tumbling to his lips even as she grabbed his hand and he latched onto her returning consciousness, suddenly the center of their connection, the gentle lap of Markus and North's minds barricading the unsteady churn of his own.</p><p>They wanted to know, to see -- <em>he</em> wanted them to know; he let go, just enough to show them but he couldn't contain his fear anymore than his affection and a tidal wave threatened to push them away--</p><p>"You won't," Markus murmured in his ear. Pressed careful lips to his cheek.</p><p>"We're here," North agreed, her hand cupping the back of his neck.</p><p>He curled into their arms and their minds, both buoyed and anchored, gently drawn back to the comfort he'd tried to give them. Sumo. Sunflowers. Candlelight. <em>When's Markus coming home--</em></p><p>And there it was, and North's guilt cascaded over his sense of ineptitude, carrying an apology and her own awkwardness and embarrassment and -- she hadn't wanted Markus <em>instead</em>, she wanted Markus there to <em>interpret</em>, because she couldn't figure out how to explain herself with words and sometimes interfacing was too much, right now it was too much and --</p><p>Sunflowers.</p><p>Markus pressed his forehead against Connor's temple. "Sometimes I worry that the two of you get along better together than either of you get along with me." Whispered. Kept from the interface. "Sometimes I'm scared by how desperately I love you both."</p><p>Connor telegraphed his intentions across the interface before twisting to meet Markus's mouth with his own; Markus carded his fingers through Connor's hair, keeping him close. North pressed against Connor's back, planting butterfly kisses on his shoulder blades.</p><p>Connor tightened his grip on them both. He was wanted. They were wanted.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>